


Photos From When We Were Young

by firecatwashere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autistic Draco Malfoy, Coming of Age, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, M/M, Trans Characters By Trans Author, Trans Male Draco Malfoy, Trans Male Harry Potter, Transitioning, Transphobia, obligatory fuck JKR, tagging this as drarry but it will be A While before that develops, tags to be updated as new chapters are posted, unsupportive parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecatwashere/pseuds/firecatwashere
Summary: Snippets of Harry and Draco's trans experiences, starting on the cusp of their first year at Hogwarts.Title from the Nana Grizol song of the same name.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Photos From When We Were Young

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this intending to post it, and then JKR got even more vocally TERFy and I didn't touch it for a while, and then I decided if I find catharsis in writing this as a trans person, then so be it. This should be pretty light for the most part but warnings will be noted if I actually update (instead of posting this and then officially burying my remaining shred of interest in the series).  
> for this chapter:  
> \- deadnaming  
> \- getting yelled at for a secret haircut  
> also, in this fic harry doesn't have a deadname because sometimes there are trans folks who are comfy with their given name and just change pronouns

Stepping into Florean Fortescue’s and breathing in the smell of ice cream, Draco ran through his to-do list. He had tasked Dobby with purchasing his books and equipment, with strict instructions to stay away from him until it was time to go home unless he wanted a flogging. Mother and Father were too busy with some aristocratic goings-on to help with their ~~daughter~~ son’s first-year Hogwarts shopping, but he didn’t mind. Today he needed to get his wand, and his robes, but first he was going to get a haircut. The rebellion of the day required ice cream to soothe his nerves.

After a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, Draco slipped through the Leaky Cauldron and into the nearest alley in the heart of Muggle London. He took off his robe and tucked it into his rucksack, revealing an olive green button-down and black slacks. Not too formal for a Muggle, he hoped. A chill climbed his spine as he counted change for bus fare; he shook his head and decided not to think about how his parents would react. 

"Aren't you a touch young to be coming in for a haircut on your own, dear?" A very motherly woman greeted Draco from behind a rack of shampoos. Panic began to rise in his throat; he hadn't considered that they might not serve him because he was young and on his own. He hesitated, glancing beyond the rack into the mostly empty salon before retrieving from his rucksack a wallet full of Muggle money.

"I- I'd like a men's cut, please."

"Do your parents know you're here? I'm sorry, but--" 

Draco and the Muggle woman both looked towards the voice of another hairdresser, whose own hair was electric blue. For a moment, he wondered how Muggles got their hair those unnatural colours. Was it possible that Muggles could be Metamorphmagi too? Of course not, it was probably some kind of hair potion.

"I can take him, Janet. It's fine."

Following the blue one's gesture, he walked over to a chair and sat. 

"So I'm Theo, I'll be your hairdresser, what are we doing today?"

"I'm a boy, I need a boy's haircut before I go away to boarding school."

"We can do that, do you want me to just buzz everything or leave some texture?"

"I want it all gone.”

Glancing at Theo in the mirror, Draco noticed the reflection of a pin on Theo's apron. "They/them," he mumbled. "That pin you're wearing, what does it mean?"

“It means when people talk about me they’re supposed to say they instead of he or she. It means when I was born, they said I was one thing and then I got older and realized they were wrong.” 

"...Oh. I think… that's me too."

  
  
  
  


"Elladora Margaret Malfoy, what _have_ you done to your hair?" Draco stood before his mother in the parlour, focusing on the swirl of the carpet at his feet.

"That's not my name." He hadn't planned or even expected to try and have that conversation, but the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop to think it over. The shocked anger in his mother's face softened ever so slightly, now tinged by concern that sent cold shivers down his back.

"But it is, sweetheart. Is… is everything alright? Are you worried about going off to school?" Narcissa shifted from angry to worried, and Draco felt the anxiety flutter up in his chest. With a breath, he decided he might as well try to explain. "I... Mum, I'm a boy."

Confusion struck his mother's face at the words, and she paused. "What do you mean, darling? Is something wrong?"

"Of course there's something wrong! I'm a boy but everyone thinks I'm a girl! Just because I looked a certain way when I was born!" Tears starting to fall in earnest, he bolted out of the room, leaving her standing bewildered before the fireplace.

* * *

The Dursleys don’t care where Harry is in the summer, as long as he’s back in time to make dinner and doesn’t do anything that makes him more of a nuisance to them. They don’t care about anything to do with him, really. They pretend to care about whether he looks respectable, forcing him into the school uniform skirt until it’s too cold to wear it, but the rest of his wardrobe is baggy hand-me-downs from Dudley, and he’s perfectly happy that way. 

Just then, he’s on a bus home from the library with a book about queer history and a novel he’d read in school. The history book is carefully tucked into the novel’s dust cover as if it belonged there, just in case anyone might think to look. With the cover off, the actual novel is plain and unidentifiable, marked simply with the publisher along the spine. He’s been slowly working his way through the LGBTQ shelf at the library this year, ever since the day he hid on the playground with the kid who had two moms and talked about never quite feeling like either of them fit into being a girl. They’d moved away before he could really say he had anything close to a friend, but it had been nice while it lasted.

The bus jolts to a stop, pulling him out of his reverie. The bland streets of Little Whinging all look the same, but it’s still around ten minutes before the stop nearest to Privet Drive. Ten minutes for him to stay lost in thought. He’ll have to finish this book before the end of the week; he’s supposed to be off to Hogwarts soon. That still feels bizarre and almost too good to be true, but he’s not exactly about to turn down a chance to get away from the Dursleys for most of the year. That is, if they don't somehow manage to keep him from going just to be cruel, of course. They were so desperate to keep him from getting his letter; he has no idea whether their distaste for him will win over their distaste for nonconformity.


End file.
